


I'm Crazy And You're Out Of Your Mind

by LadyIrina



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Heahmud is having a freak out, Jealous Ivar, M/M, heavy on the man-smut, nothing nice ever lasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:16:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina
Summary: Heahmund is startled by a jealous Ivar and then has a bit of a freak out after the moon incident...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gentrychild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gentrychild/gifts).



> A word of warning; this is ending on a different note than the others. Up until the last couple of lines, it's pretty similar to Battle of Wills and One Kiss Away From Killing, but then 5x08 and extended promo happened and I had to change the ending on this. Also, this looks to be the final part. Not happy with the direction of the show and it is kinda killing my creativity. Merely to inform, so you know! :)  
> A huge thank you to everyone who gave me such wonderful feedback! And apologies to Gentrychild who had to listen to my wailing!

After he had given his word to fight for Ivar, Heahmund was given a proper room and allowed to roam around in the village as long as his two guards followed him. The startling development with Ivar and the knowledge that he was surrounded by heathens made Heahmund keep to his room for a long while, but eventually boredom and curiosity got the better of him and he ventured outside.  
The Lord had placed him in that village for a reason and he wanted to see more of it.

Most of the villagers were either glaring at him or staring at him with fear, both suited Heahmund nicely.

“You’re him.” A voice said one day he was in the heart of the village. “You’re the Christian.”

Heahmund paused and turned to find a young, blonde woman carrying a basket standing there. He gave a little nod. “I am Bishop Heahmund, sent here by the Lord, on a Holy Mission in His Name.”

The woman tilted her head, almost curiously. “They call you his dog. Ivar’s War Hound.”

Heahmund laughed at the absurd statement. “Do I look like a dog?” He would rise above petty heathen insults, even if he could feel his upper lip curl with disdain.

Laughing a little, the woman shook her head and rested her basked on her hip. “No.” She paused and seemed to gather her courage. “I thought you Christians looked different. More like something out of Jotunheim…”

Feeling pity for the woman and her limited knowledge of the world, clearly restricted by her heathen life, Heahmund gave a small but genuine smile. “We are warriors of the true God. Blessed by His Grace and granted strength by our Faith, we are no monsters.”

That made her frown. “Christians killed the man I was going to marry.”

Heahmund tensed up a little, aware of his two guards doing the same. “We are sworn to protect our lands and our people, in the name of our King and our Lord. We do our duty.”

“He was a farmer.” The woman was still looking at him with her odd curiosity. “He sailed over at the command of King Ragnar to farm the land given them there. He was going to send for me. Christians came and killed everyone.”

Blinking, Heahmund felt his speech about them invading his land and having to defend his people from their pagan beliefs get stuck in his throat. There were too many ears listening and something told him his guards wouldn’t step in if people there decided to mob up on him. “Maybe he should have stayed here and farmed your land instead of invading others.”

“Kings and gods, we all obey the command of someone.” The woman said, turning to leave. “Isn’t that right, War Hound? We all do what we must to survive in this world.”

Heahmund watched her leave, frowning thoughtfully, but he did not reply. He continued his little walk around the town, observing and becoming uncomfortably aware that most of them were ordinary people doing mundane tasks. In some bizarre way, it almost reminded him of home. If not for the jarring absence of the priests and their churches, it was almost… normal.

Unsettled, Heahmund decided to go back to his room and pray. It was the one thing guaranteed to bring peace of mind…

-

While prayer did soothe him, it still didn’t take away uneasy thoughts and concerns once his lips went quiet. In the end, Heahmund gave up and merely crawled into bed.

He was almost asleep when the door to his room suddenly slammed open and Ivar came stalking in with his ungainly gait. Jumping out of bed, heart racing and adrenaline pumping, Heahmund stared bewildered at him. “Ivar?” He glanced over at the door, expecting to see heathen warriors lined up to drag him outside to be killed. He would not go without a fight! “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Ivar replied, his voice strangely high pitched. 

Heahmund moved over to close the door to make sure Ivar was indeed alone and was no less confused by the words that followed.

“Except, I thought Christians were forbidden to lie.”

Heahmund stepped over to stand in front of him and frowned. “I have not lied to you, Ivar.” Not in words. Not yet.

“You said you’d have no interest in our slave-girls. You lied.”

Even more confused, and slightly worried that Ivar had started making up things to punish him, Heahmund’s frown deepened. “What are you…?” He then suddenly realized what Ivar was talking about and huffed a laugh. “I assure you, that was a conversation. Nothing more.” He doubted any woman in the village wanted anything to do with him and he wasn’t keen on being called Ivar’s dog again.

Ivar glared at him for a little while, clearly trying to decide whether he believed him or not, but he seemed to land on being told the truth. Still, while many emotions could be seen in his expression, the tension remained in his body and Ivar suddenly maneuvered himself closer to Heahmund and leaned dangerously close to his face. “Touch me again,” Ivar growled. “Like before.”

The gruff words felt like a hot caress to his libido and Heahmund was hit by a sizzling flashback to the pleasure he’d felt at the heathen’s hands. It was something that had haunted his dreams ever since it happened and he’d woken up most mornings with a lingering want coiled in his belly. His instinctive reaction was to reach out for Ivar, but suddenly a cold feeling came over him at the confident and insolent look on Ivar’s face. That sounded like an order. If Heahmund refused, would that mean chains and abuse again? The thought made him tense up and anger lick at the edge of his mind. “Is that an order?” He asked coolly.

Ivar’s face flared with anger as well for a moment, but then there was the moment where the arrogance faded away and he seemed at loss for the right words. Something that could almost be called uncertainty could be seen for the briefest of moments before Ivar turned his face away and muttered out; “Please…?”

Heahmund was struck by how complicated Ivar was. While hot tempered and dangerous, he was also clearly inexperienced in anything but anger and violence. His life had never given him anything, so Ivar had stopped asking and merely began taking to get what he wanted. But now Ivar’s clever mind told him that to repeat this thing he so craved, voluntarily, it could not be forced; it had to be given. Uncertain with this almost forgotten approach, Ivar clearly expected rejection. As always.  
Because of that; Heahmund suddenly wanted to give him this. 

Reaching out, he cupped Ivar’s face and guided him up to a beginning kiss.

If they were doing this, they were not going to do it standing up and Heahmund nearly laughed out loud at the irony when he told Ivar to sit down on the bed and the man snapped back with:  
“I’m not a dog.”

Luckily pointing out how it would simply be more practical for them to sit down was enough to make Ivar acquiesce and sit down with a rough sound; hindered by the braces on his legs. Heahmund wondered if he’d allow him to remove them.

-

“I’m starting to think you enjoy being on your knees,” Ivar said, his voice both mocking and filled with suggestive hints as Heahmund was kneeling down and undoing the buckles on the braces. 

Amused by how Ivar was as subtle as a Viking raiding party, Heahmund merely shot back with the benefits of being humble. 

Ivar scoffed at the notion before hissing softly with discomfort as the brace came off his leg. “I know what I am and I do not waste time pretending to be something I’m not. I decide my fate.”

Heahmund nodded absently, working on the second brace. He knew what Ivar thought he was, but he wondered if Ivar knew what he really was. There were so many layers to this man’s soul that it was hard to tell… It was both confusing and utterly fascinating.

Once the left brace was gone as well, Heahmund placed his hands under Ivar’s legs, noting how uncomfortably fragile they felt compared to the muscular torso, and gently lifted them up on the bed. He knew any mentioning of the legs from him would only unleash the tension Ivar was glaring at him with so he shifted the focus elsewhere. “Take off your shirt.”

Predictably, Ivar couldn’t even do that without making trouble. Heahmund had seen him without his shirt, which told him that Ivar was not uncomfortable showing off his powerful torso and knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. When Ivar ordered him to remove his first, Heahmund did not hesitate.

While his upper body did not go through the work-out that Ivar’s did every day by sheer necessity, he was in as good, if not better, shape as most of the heathens in the village. Heahmund pulled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Ivar’s face softened as he let his eyes roam with hungry fascination, making Heahmund feel his gaze like hands on his skin, before he went tense again and sulkily pulled off his gloves and then his shirt.

Crawling over Ivar, mindful of his legs, Heahmund merely got settled and pulled him into more kisses, determined to avoid more conflict. The strategy worked well. Ivar opened eagerly to the kisses; his hands found their way to Heahmund’s skin and began exploring. Again the contrast between the harsh Ivar and how gentle his fingertips felt was astonishing to Heahmund.

Wanting more, wanting to be closer, Heahmund didn’t think, merely pushed at Ivar to lie back, but wasn’t surprised or dismayed at the younger man shoving back at him. Heahmund had no trouble easing over on his back while Ivar slid on top of him with a look of triumph, like he’d achieved something, as the heavy weight of the man was pressing down on all the right spots.

Well, almost. Heahmund squirmed and adjusted a little, getting Ivar’s legs between his, and then he could exhale a shaky sigh of satisfaction at the feeling of Ivar’s hardness against his own. Yes. Perfect.  
He heard Ivar make a choked groan before making a moan of his own as Ivar followed up with rolling his hips against his. ‘That’ was perfect!

They automatically started moving, pushing and rolling against each other, building up the tension further, when Heahmund realized that, no, wait, it could be even better…!

-

He more or less had to force Ivar to stop moving, earning himself a furious glare, but Heahmund ignored it and reached down between them.

Not only did he undo Ivar’s pants and pull his cock free, Heahmund did the same to himself. Lifting his hand to his face, he was momentarily puzzled when Ivar took a hold of his wrist; only to give a full body shiver when the younger man turned the hand to his face instead and slowly licked his palm.

Ivar’s frightfully blue eyes were staring directly into his as he drew his tongue lewdly up Heahmund’s palm and Heahmund couldn’t breathe. It was the most arousing sight he’d ever seen. He’d never once considered his hands as particularly sensitive, too roughened by sword training, but now it felt like his hand was directly connected to his cock. Then Ivar did it again.

Exhaling sharply, nearly coming right then and there, Heahmund tore his hand free and reached down between them. With a little shifting and adjusting, their cocks aligned and his fingers made sure to keep them together.

Ivar closed his eyes hard and hid his face to Heahmund’s neck for a moment before he began moving against him. Heahmund closed his own eyes, overwhelmed at the glorious feeling, completely unaware of how his shivering gasps turned into loud moans until Ivar’s hand locked around his throat again.

Grateful he didn’t have to worry about being quiet, Heahmund lost himself completely to the primal drive to reach climax. He bucked his hips hard up against Ivar, knowing he could take it, unlike Heahmund’s previous bedmates as enthusiastic as they had been. This was different. This was raw, unrestrained and unapologetic.

His movements grew even rougher, more erratic, until he finally, finally, came in a glorious rush of pleasure. Arching his back, feeling a scream trying to force its way past Ivar’s grip in vain, Heahmund only absently noted Ivar’s answering growl of delight and the sticky heat covering his skin.

His throat was finally released and Heahmund heaved desperately for air, even as Ivar slumped on top of his chest, clearly as exhausted and numbed by pleasure as he was. For a while they were merely trying to catch their breaths, but Ivar eventually moved over to lie next to him instead and Heahmund felt a slight pang of loss at the cold air that took his place but was too tired to do anything about it.  
He merely wiped himself as clean as he could be bothered with and tucked himself away. Ivar did the same, but Heahmund was surprised when the man made no effort to leave the bed. Instead, he seemed quite content to lie there and watch him. It was unnerving, to say the least.

Especially as he reached out and almost touched his sore neck. Heahmund felt himself grow tense, but forced himself still. Moving would only provoke Ivar and he did not like the manic look in his eyes. But he was so tired… So very tired… Yet his instincts told him it would be a very bad idea to merely fall asleep with Ivar in his bed. 

He ended up turning to wrap an arm around Ivar, holding him close, in order to get some damn rest. If the man made an effort on his life while in Heahmund’s arms, surely he’d awaken? 

Ivar objected at first, but then fell silent. Heahmund relaxed a little when Ivar abruptly turned over on his side and allowed him to curl up behind him and wrap his arm around him again. The man abruptly declared they would play Hnefatafl the very next day and Heahmund was too tired to argue or even ask why. 

-

Asleep but on guard, all it took was one soft sound from Ivar to snap Heahmund out of it.

His eyes opened and his muscles tensed, but Heahmund quickly discovered there was no actual danger as Ivar appeared to be asleep. He was still lying in Heahmund’s precautionary embrace, his back against him, and Heahmund was just starting to relax when it happened again.

A twitch ran through Ivar and he made a barely noticeable sound from deep in his throat.

Frowning curiously, Heahmund lifted his head and glanced down at the younger man. He was a little surprised to find Ivar indeed asleep, but with a look of distress on his usually so smug face. 

Ivar was having bad dreams? The notion almost seemed absurd. What did someone as cold and violent as Ivar have to fear, even in his dreams? What could possibly frighten the man who had held back the Saxon army with nothing but his bloodied face and fearless screams?

Heahmund watched him a few moments longer, struggling to believe what he was seeing, but when Ivar drew a sharp breath and squirmed restlessly; increasingly more distressed, Heahmund slowly reached up and gently touched Ivar’s dark hair.   
He didn’t dare to speak, worried about waking Ivar and have his fear turn into rage, but drew his fingers through the smooth locks in what he hoped was a calming manner.   
It seemed to work. Ivar’s frown eased a little and his breathing appeared to grow calmer. 

Encouraged, Heahmund continued to slide his fingers through Ivar’s hair and used the opportunity to study the other man a little without being under the piercing stare in return. There was no denying that he had an extremely handsome face, but relaxed in sleep Ivar seemed almost… vulnerable. It made something clench uncomfortably inside Heahmund’s chest.

Ivar was dangerous and a heathen. Heahmund could not afford to forget that, no matter what happened. He was there because God had a plan. There was a bigger picture to remember. 

Pulling his hand away and sinking down to return to his previous position, Heahmund did not find sleep again. His lips moved without a sound as he kept repeating the Lord’s Prayer until Ivar stirred again, and this time he woke up.

Heahmund watched but kept his silence as Ivar got out of bed and struggled into his braces again. (He knew better than to offer his help.) He couldn’t help but to wonder about Ivar the Boneless. Yes, he knew Ivar was unstable, deadly, a heathen, and a complex man of countless layers. The Lord had granted him that knowledge, and yet…   
Yet, he found that he wanted to know more.


	2. Chapter 2

They played Hnefatafl the very next day and the following days. It didn’t take long for Heahmund to discover it was yet another one of Ivar’s tests and judging by the first couple of games; he passed. Instead it turned into a way for them to do battle without injury to anything but their prides.

Heahmund learned that not only was Ivar a devious strategist, his acts were born out of either emotion or ambition and carried out with cold determination. If you wronged Ivar, he would remember. And he would have his revenge.

“Do they frighten you? Your brothers.” Heahmund asked. The war was creeping closer and Ivar kept growing increasingly tense. Were the other Ragnarsons the cause for his nightmares?

Predictably Ivar scoffed at the idea, with a slight exception for the eldest brother, who was ‘not very smart, but a great warrior’. However, his rage at the woman who had killed his mother was boundless. The fury in his eyes was enough to burn down all of Kattegat and made Heahmund wonder if Ivar was someone who could only love a person with all his heart or not at all.

Later that night, Heahmund was staring up at the almost full moon and felt no wiser but increasingly frustrated. Why did the Lord have to put him such a path and not reveal his purpose to him?

“The moon is a woman, that is true,” Ivar said, referring to Heahmund’s talk of the Virgin Mary appearing with the moon. “But not a woman you can trust. ” Ivar came to a halt right behind him and Heahmund went from tense to worried. “A devious woman. A woman who drives men insane.”

“She promises them,” Ivar purred, “her love.” The edge of a sharp knife slid down the side of Heahmund’s face, like a caress. Heahmund could barely hear Ivar’s words over his own pounding heart and the blade scraping against hair as it continued to caress him. “Her favors. Then changes her mind. Cheats. Goes with someone else.”

Heahmund instinctively leaned slightly away from the blade, but it didn’t do much good as Ivar merely continued to run it over his skin and he could feel how badly Ivar wanted to cut him for a betrayal he had yet to commit. What had caused this sudden suspicion?  
“If you kill me now, you deny yourself the pleasure of…” Heahmund hesitated for just a second, “proving yourself right.” He almost said something else.

The knife vanished and Ivar’s voice was once again soft; almost sad. “Heahmund… I do not want to be right. I want to believe; in you. I want to believe that in this world there is someone who never lies. Cheats. That there is someone who is always… noble.”

Heahmund turned to face him and looked him in the eyes; finding the same kind of turmoil there that plagued him as well. “I am the one, Ivar. You can believe in me.” He knew the other man would remember the last time he used those words; sex in the air and sweat cooling on their skin.

Ivar stared at him, mesmerized, and Heahmund found himself praying he’d not just told his first lie to him. That he wouldn’t indeed be as fickle as the moon. Heahmund would hate himself if he turned out to be the one to destroy the single fragment of hope in humanity that Ivar had left.

Snapping out of his daze, Ivar tried and failed at a smile, his gaze dipping briefly to Heahmund’s lips. “We’ll see…” He remembered. But his gaze flickered away and he withdrew.

As Ivar walked away, Heahmund turned back to the window and could barely breathe. He felt the echo of the knife on his skin, the weight of Ivar’s words and his uncertain future. 

-Lord, forgive me, Heahmund thought in shocked realization. – He matters to me.

-

Left to his own devices, Heahmund could find no peace in the room. He tried to pray, but neither his mind nor heart was in it. His body felt restless, his mind uneasy and his soul heavy. Bad things were on the horizon and he could sense it; as if a horrible fate was waiting for him.

A time of reckoning was coming and Heahmund feared the price. He would have to make a choice and Ivar was not making it easy for him. He had his plan, but would it be enough? Could he trust Ivar with his life? Why didn’t God answer his cries for help?

Pacing around the room, Heahmund felt his distress growing by each heartbeat along with an urge to destroy something. He had never doubted, not once, but that damn blue eyed devil had twisted everything!

Heahmund couldn’t stand it anymore. He stalked out of the room, not looking at or acknowledging the two startled men who had to scurry after him, and marched directly to Ivar’s room and through the door. 

Ivar was sitting by the table, blinking surprised at the intruder who came to halt in front of him, but quickly regained his wits. Waving away the apologetic guards, he waited until the door closed and gave a sharp smile. “Have you come to confess, Christian?”

It was amazing how Ivar could make the word sound like such a filthy insult. Heahmund gave a sharp smile of his own in return. “Have you decided to convert and save your soul, Heathen?”

Ivar breathed a laugh and Heahmund felt that thing clench inside his chest again. He also noticed that Ivar was looking up at him without a hint of fear. Heahmund was towering over him and yet he was lounging back against the table and meeting his eyes with a confidence he’d never seen in a man before. That didn’t change, even when Heahmund leaned down and placed his hands on the table on each side of Ivar; practically fencing him in and making him lean back a little. 

Heahmund stared into his eyes for several seconds, seeing no fear, just a stubborn challenge fueled by spite and wishful thinking. He sensed his own eyes had the same content. Dipping his head, he kissed him. 

Ivar’s lips were soft and welcoming, opening to him seeking entrance, and it felt so easy, so right, that it made Heahmund even more frustrated. The kisses quickly gained heat despite nothing but their mouths touching, and they became wet, hungry and impatient. And soon; not enough.

Breaking the kiss, slightly breathless, Heahmund placed his hand on Ivar’s left knee and pushed the leg slightly to the side to make room before kneeling down between Ivar’s legs. He glanced up to find the superior look gone and Ivar was staring at him with stunned surprise.

-

Heahmund licked his lips, nervous and a little reluctant. This was not something he’d ever done before, or even considered doing, but he was about to crawl out of his skin with the need to do something, anything, to stop thinking.

He reached for the bindings on Ivar’s pants, opening them just enough to free the quickly hardening flesh he sought and his touch brought a shiver to the softly panting Ivar. Heahmund hesitated, knowing in theory what to do, yet again relying on what had been done to him in the past, but uncertain of how to proceed. In the end, he merely wrapped his right hand around Ivar’s cock and leaned forward to place his lips to it.

The contact made Ivar’s hips lurch upwards as he drew a sharp breath. Ivar quickly took a hold of the edge of the bench he was sitting on; his grip so tight that his knuckles were white, and he visibly forced himself still.

Closing his eyes, Heahmund took him into his mouth, trying to remember what he’d enjoyed. He discovered that while Ivar’s cock had been more than a decent fit in his hand, he somehow felt larger in his mouth and it brought back the memory of that innkeeper’s daughter who had been careless with her teeth. Right, Heahmund told himself: Mind the teeth.

It wasn’t overly comfortable, a lot more complicated than he’d ever imagined it to be, combining pleasure with the need to breathe and other logistics, but luckily his inexperience didn’t seem to faze Ivar. A quick glance up at him, despite Heahmund’s better judgment, revealed that Ivar had lifted his face towards the ceiling and was panting hard through his open mouth. Now, that was a sight that made Heahmund’s blood spike and his own cock twitch eagerly.

Returning to the task, Heahmund tried different things with his mouth as well as his tongue, counting every gasped moan and every twitch as a victory. He was so focused on his mission that he failed to notice Ivar releasing his grip on the bench and suddenly the hands were in Heahmund’s hair and he was yanked up by a painful grip on the dark strands.

In the middle of a pained hiss, Heahmund didn’t get the chance to complain as Ivar’s mouth came crashing down on his. He was surprised to feel the tongue invading his mouth, knowing Ivar had to taste himself there even if he didn’t get his release, but it only seemed to further fuel the man.

Heahmund kissed back just as harshly, finally able to unleash the tension inside him. Finally!

“Bed,” Ivar suddenly ordered against his lips. “Bed. Now!”

It took a moment for Heahmund’s brain to be able to process actual words, but he didn’t hesitate to obey. Straightening fully, allowing Ivar to hold on to him, the four steps over to the bed was only made difficult by the fact that neither man seemed willing to stop kissing or groping at each other.

Pushing Ivar down to land on the bed, Heahmund made quick work of the buckles and removed the braces. He lifted the legs up on the bed and moved up to start undoing the shirt as well. He merely sneered annoyed when a leering Ivar pulled out one of his damn knives and cut through the knots on Heahmund’s shirt.  
“You’re getting that fixed,” Heahmund declared, pausing only to pull off his now ruined shirt.

Ivar replaced the knife in its sheath and then undid the belt the knives were attached to. “Maybe.” He grinned and dropped the belt to the floor before pulling off his own shirt.

-

Figuring they were beyond modesty by now, Heahmund shed the rest of his clothes as well before joining Ivar on the bed. The younger man was watching him with predatory hunger, shameless as always, but made no move to remove his own pants. Heahmund didn’t ask him to either.

This time Ivar seemed comfortable with lying on his back, partially covered by Heahmund and contended himself with letting his hands roam wherever they wanted as the kisses began anew. 

It gave Heahmund the chance to do a little exploring himself. Ivar was like a forest fire; beautiful but ruthless; he would kill you if given the chance and left nothing but destruction in his trail. Heahmund knew he would burn because of him.

Ivar’s arms were impressive, even more muscular than his own, and his chest was every bit as powerful. Heahmund bent down and let his tongue run up Ivar’s sternum, tasting the salty sweat and hoarding the shudder he felt go through the younger man’s body. It made him smirk, leaning over to kiss and bite his way up Ivar’s neck to feel him shudder again; unable to resist grinding against him when his wish was granted.

Ivar snarled, pushing hard at his shoulder and Heahmund rolled over on his back; pulling him along. He exhaled with satisfaction while Ivar settled on top of him. The younger man was riled up, driven by desire and a constant need to prove himself his equal, and Heahmund was more than happy to indulge him. He reached down to take a hold of Ivar’s hips and urged him to start moving.

For all their differences, in this; they worked together perfectly. Sweet pleasure rolled through them, tainted with stings of pain when teeth would find skin or fingers gripped too hard, and it was so good. So very good! Both were breathing hard and showing no mercy by the time their movements were becoming erratic and downright harsh. 

Heahmund pushed his head back as he felt the coiled up tension reach its breaking point and he half expected Ivar’s hand to lock around his throat, but instead the dark haired devil leaned down and laughed by his ear; “Go on. Let me hear you, Heahmund. How do I make you feel?”

Instantly provoked by the smug confidence in Ivar’s voice, Heahmund clenched his teeth together to keep his release quiet. He failed miserably.

Ivar made a deep throated groan of satisfaction at the choked shout that forced its way up Heahmund’s throat and to freedom. He shifted his weight on his arms slightly and only needed a few seconds more before he followed with a growled hiss.

Collapsing in a heap of arms and legs, they both struggled to catch their breaths for the longest time. Heahmund was almost asleep when he felt Ivar’s fingertips run over the scar he’d gotten after an arrow in York.

“I can believe in you, Heahmund, can I not?” Ivar asked quietly.

Heahmund opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. “Yes.” He replied, tonelessly. His body was finally relaxed but his mind was even more confused. Why did that feel like a lie?

Pushing himself away and getting to his feet, Heahmund got dressed in silence. He felt Ivar’s smug gaze resting on him, but he avoided looking back at him. 

He did not want to care about Ivar the Boneless, but he did. And Ivar had some attachment to him. There was no way around that. And it would destroy them both. He could feel it.

Leaving the room, he caught a brief glance of Ivar stretching on the bed like a satisfied cat, beautiful and enticing, and Heahmund couldn’t get away quickly enough. This had been a mistake. He’d managed to stop thinking for a little while, but now he felt even more unbalanced than before! 

Keeping to his room, Heahmund did not see Ivar again, not until the day came when it was time for them to set sail for the final battle. That was where everything went wrong, just like he’d feared.

Ivar would learn that he’d been right; Heahmund and the moon were fickle and not to be trusted.


End file.
